Billy: “Mom, can I buy Fritz a Wii for his birthday?”
Fritz’s birthday was three weeks ago. “No.”
He leaves and I hear him report back:
“It didn’t work.”
Author Archives: michellereitemeyer
Moving Time Rhetorical Question #4
If the vet hands out free coloring books, is it wrong to hide them from the children until the long car ride so that they have something new to look at in the car?
Moving Time Rhetorical Questions #2 and #3
If you have a refrigerated pie crust and a lemon and the packers come in 5 days, do you have any choice but to make lemon meringue pie?
If somebody sticks their fingers in the pie, do you throw it out?
Now that’s a silly question.Moving Time Rhetorical Question #1
Is there any point in vacuuming out the van 8 days before the big move?
I don’t care who won…
…I’m just glad it’s over.
And, yes, shouting “GOAL!” while sitting next to your sleeping baby will wake her up and will annoy your wife.
New One
I have a toddler. That means I have to ask first for instructions before doing anything lest I do it incorrectly and offend his sensibilities. There are times when I’m not in a good mood and I just say, “This is how it is…deal with it.” I usually come to regret that. It’s a phase; eventually children become a bit more flexible. Until then, I will continue to have morning conversations like this:
“Petey, want a waffle for breakfast?”
Head nod.
“One…or two?”
He shows me three fingers.
“Nah, buddy, there’s only room in the toaster for two…let’s start with two, OK?”
He nods. I take two waffles out of the freezer.
“See here…look: one…two!” I show him two waffles. “OK, I’m putting them in the toaster now.”
In they go.
“Now, a plate…is this one OK or do you want the blue one?”
He points. The waffles pop up.
“Alrighty, then. Two waffles. Do you want me to cut them?”
Head nod.
“OK…do you want them in strips for dipping or in pieces for eating with a fork?”
Confused babble.
“Strips, Petey? With a bowl of syrup? How about this bowl, the yellow one?”
“No bowl. Cut it up.”
“OK, cut it up and then you’ll eat it with a fork?”
Head nod.
I cut the waffles into strips. “Strips, Petey? Or cut them more?”
“More.”
“Like this?” I demonstrate with my knife the direction of the cross cut.
Head nod.
“OK…syrup in a bowl or on top?”
“On the bottom.”
“On the bottom?” I am unfamiliar with what “on the bottom” could mean.
“On the bottom.”
“Uh, how about you show me where?” I pick up the syrup. “Where should I pour it?”
“Here.” He points to a part of the plate open between pieces.
“OK…”
“And here.” Another empty spot. “And here.” Another empty spot.
“How about here?” I point to the last empty spot.
Head nod.
“OK, let’s go to the table.”
Head nod.
Happy kid, happy mom. Happy soul in purgatory?
Stress
On Sunday and Monday, I excavated the children’s rooms. Now a huge stack of books awaits placement on the kid book shelf, and the landing halfway to the basement toy room is piled with toys that need to be put away. I won’t mention what else I did to their rooms as my oldest child often reads my blog, but let’s just say that Flylady would be proud.
In the last few days I have done at least a dozen loads of laundry with many more to do. I’m debating whether or not the washable curtains should be laundered before being packed.
Every time I cross something off my to-do list, I seem to add three more items.
At the doctor’s office yesterday, I saw that my blood pressure was 130/80. Normally I am about 117/65, or as Bill calls it, “Barely-alive over needs-CPR.”
I am fighting the desire to panic. I am fighting the instinct to be crabby and short-tempered. I am trying to remember to smile.
I have two children (other than my infant) who need more attention from me than usual. “Mommy, will you sit on the couch and schnuggle wif me?” I am sitting on the couch and snuggling as often as I can. I’m trying not to spend that time thinking of more things to add to my to-do list. As a distraction, I’m reading a book about how deployment affects a soldier’s family. It’s making me cry. I’m not sure this is a good distraction.
I am grateful that I do not have to pack my house. In the end, even dirty laundry will get packed. In the end, even a pile of junk will get packed. In the end, every possession will make it onto the truck and to Virginia and into the new house. The more work I do here, the easier will the transition be. But I have to balance snuggle time on the couch in Virginia with snuggle time on the couch in Kansas.
As I lie in bed every morning, I pray, “Thank you, God, for this wonderful life. Please help us to get through these weeks with patience and love.”
Katie, warrior princess
photo by Grandpa (November 2007)
Mary
In complete defiance of my request, she’s getting bigger every day. In less than a week, she’ll be 8 months old.
I had to get some last shots of her gummy grin. She’s just popped her first teeth, so in a few weeks her smile will be different.
Isn’t she just the cutest thing?
New Month’s Resolution for June
Of the 12 neighbors physically closest to my house, 4 are staying here, 4 have already left and the houses are empty, 2 move out this week, 1 moves out (like us) next week, and the last I assume moves out this week or the next, but they keep to themselves so I don’t know for sure. In other military neighborhoods we’ve lived in, it’s about 1/3 who leave (here only 1/3 are staying), and they don’t all happen at once.
Moving is stressful and living in an area where just about every other family is experiencing the same stress at the same time means there’s no oasis of calm. This escalates the stress, and I think it’s the kids who feel it most. The squabbles, the tears, the bad behavior – all seem to be worse than usual for all the kids in the neighborhood. And naturally, husbands and wives are just trying to get through the ordeal without bloodshed.
Yesterday, my neighbor was grumping about her husband, and I told Bill about it. “You know what it is: he has his priorities, and she has hers. Unfortunately, their top ten lists don’t match.”
“They never do,” he said.
“There should be some agreement,” I persisted.
“It’s called compromise,” he insisted.
We parried like this for a few minutes.
Finally, I mentioned an Excel spreadsheet I had just made with a pack list for moving (hey, it only took me to the fourth move in four years to think of doing this). “Don’t you think that something like that list is a priority? If we need to secure the valuables in the car before the movers come, securing the valuables in the car is a priority that we agree, not compromise, on? (brief pause) Be very careful how you answer. I warn you that so far your answers have not been to my satisfaction.”
“Are you saying that we’ll get along better if I agree with you?”
“Of course!”
“Yes, the list is a priority,” he drones. “Everything else is a compromise.”
My resolution for this month: I will not kill my husband. Come July, the desire to do so should be past.
What is a New Month’s Resolution? Every month I look at where I need to focus my attention. Perhaps I’ve been procrastinating on certain chores. Perhaps I need to spend some extra time with one or more of the kids. Perhaps I’d like to try a new habit. New Month’s Resolutions are not grandiose plans to lose ten pounds or declutter the entire house or give up smoking (of course, I don’t smoke, but if I did, this would not be the venue in which I would give it up). New Month’s resolutions are short-term commitments; they are easily attained goals; they focus on what is needed right now, instead of what is best for a lifetime.
Do you have a new month’s resolution?
Reit This Way 